


The Most Dangerous Battlefield

by SoloShikigami



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Depression, Friendship/Love, Gen, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-05-20 12:40:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6006415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoloShikigami/pseuds/SoloShikigami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something is wrong... This isn't the type of thing that's supposed to happen to someone like him... Of course they know that no one is ever completely safe, no one is ever totally innocent, and that it doesn't matter what happens on the outside, the inside is the most dangerous battlefield of all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Something's Not Right

**Author's Note:**

> This is something completely different than what I usually write, and a far, far cry from the fluff I’ve been pumping out as of late. While I may make up for it for something cute by the end, well… I don't know.  
> I don’t usually do dark, so bear with me.

Wade wasn’t unaware of the less than stellar opinions most of the other superheroes had about him, so he was a little surprised when Logan, of all people, asked him to meet him at a bar in Chinatown - out of costume. 

“Make sure you leave the kid at home,” Logan growled at him after dispatching yet another Hydra agent. “And damn it, Wilson, stop staring at my ass!” 

Good times, Wade thought. 

_‘Why in the world would Logan want to meet with you out here?’_ a voice in Wade’s head asked. _'And without Peter?'_

_**‘Maybe he’s finally caved to his secret crush on us,’**_ another suggested. 

Then both voices laughed. 

“You guys are assholes,” Wade muttered under his breath, thankful that the cacophony of people coming out of the subway at Church Street was too loud for anyone to take notice. 

One of the many, many reasons Wade loved this city. 

A fifteen minute walk ended at a small, almost hidden bar tucked away between a floral shop and what Wade could only describe as a bakery. The air had an odd mixed smell of carnations and pork buns along with the ever-present scents of Chinese herbs. He immediately thought of someone he knew would absolutely lose his mind if he were there at that moment. 

Which was probably why he screeched when a hand landed on his shoulder and Matthew Murdock said “Wade? Is that you?” 

Wade spun around to find Matt tilting his head, waiting for a reply, and another man laughing his ass off who was standing next to him, their arms linked. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Wade nearly shouted, drawings looks from passers-by but really not giving a shit at the moment. 

“I’m about ready to ask you the same,” Matt couldn’t help a small smirk. “Calm down, you’re about to have a heart attack.” 

Wade lifted a finger accusingly. “Don’t pull that shit on me, Murdock!” 

“See, Matty? I _told_ you that listening to people’s heartbeats is weird,” said the other man. 

Wade took a close look at the other guy; he seemed to be about the same age as Matt, shoulder-length blond-brownish hair, bit of a belly, wonderful smile… Wade figured he had a good guess who this was. 

“You gonna introduce me to your friend?” Wade asked. 

“Wade Wilson, Foggy Nelson,” Matt said. 

Foggy smiled and held a hand out, but Wade looked down with some hesitation; his hoodie has kept his face fairly hidden and he always kept his hands in his pockets. He looked up with a smirk. 

“No offense, gorgeous, I don’t do the handshake thing.” 

Foggy nodded in understanding, but then let out a surprised noise when Wade stepped into his personal space. 

“But there’s a lot of other things I’m willing to do with the right company, and I think you fit the bill quite nicely.” 

Foggy raised an eyebrow. Wade appreciated that Foggy could very well see his face but didn’t seem disgusted or deterred in any way. Matt used his cane to smack Wade on the back of his ankle. 

“Ease off, Wilson,” Matt said with a chuckle. 

“Huh, so that’s what that feels like when a dude you just met flirts with you,” Foggy murmured. “Can I trust him with you, Matty?” he said a little louder. 

“I wouldn’t trust Wade with much, but I’ll be all right.” 

“Well, fuck you, too, _Matty_.” 

Matt grinned and Foggy sighed, running a hand through his hair and not looking too comforted. 

“If you say so. Call me when you’re ready?” 

“Of course.” 

“Catch you later, Wade.” 

Wade grinned and waved as Foggy departed with one last uncertain look to Matt. 

“So, I have a few questions,” Wade started. 

“No, he isn’t my boyfriend,” Matt said with a slightly exasperated sigh. “And yes, he is single, but you will stay the hell away from him.” 

“I didn’t say a damn word!” 

“You didn’t have to.” 

“Uh huh. You’re a dick. Anyway, what I _wanted_ to ask you is seriously, what the fuck are you doing here?” 

“Oddly enough, Logan asked me to meet him here.” 

Wade raised an eyebrow. “What the hell? He asked me, too. Less weird that he asked you, very weird he asked me, and now I’m scared that he got us both.” 

“Relax, Wade, if he wanted to kill you, he wouldn’t bother asking me to be present and he would have attempted to kill you ages ago.” 

“You think he hasn’t tried?” 

Matt smiled, reaching out carefully to pat Wade on the shoulder. “Come on, he’s in there and he’s impatient.” 

“He’s always impatient.” 

“Good point.” 

“Hm. So, does Foggy know about the whole…” 

“Yeah.” 

“He seemed really uncomfortable.” 

“He is.” 

“Did he find you in an uncompromising position?” 

Wade was giving Matt a huge grin, but it faded when Matt grimaced. 

“You could say that. It’s a long story and I don’t have time to tell you today. Come on, Logan is not the kind of person you want to keep waiting.” 

The inside of the bar was dark, and while he knew it didn’t really matter to Matt, Wade made sure he kept a hold of him until they found Logan. He was sitting at the very end of the bar, nursing what looked like his second glass of whiskey. He grunted at the both of them as a way of greeting and the two made themselves comfortable on the stools. Logan knocked on the bar and the bartender dropped two glasses in front of the other two men and Logan passed Wade the whiskey bottle. 

“Well, this is a nice place,” Wade said, pouring a drink for Matt and himself. 

“No one here really understands English, so it’s safe to talk,” Logan said by way of explanation. “Look, I’m a bit worried about the kid.” 

“Kid?” Matt asked. 

“Baby boy?” Wade said. 

Even though Logan called at least half of the X-Men ‘kid,’ the two quickly put together that if the two of them were called in, he meant Peter. 

“What’s wrong?” Matt asked. 

“Small things; he’s not as annoying as he usually is, he doesn’t talk as much during fights, and he doesn’t try to convince me or the others to hang out afterwards. Charles picked up something off, but then again we had a small issue with a new recruit ourselves so I thought he was just being paranoid.” 

“What kind of issue?” Matt asked. 

Logan swallowed half of the whiskey in his glass. “Attempted suicide.” 

Wade glanced over his shoulder at Matt; his face was tight and his hand was clenched around his glass. Wade looked into his own glass, still mostly full, and downed it. Suicide and attempts at it weren’t completely absent from the superhero world, but Wade knew that depending on one’s powers, it could be dangerous. 

_**‘Something you have some experience with, Wilson?'**_ a voice teased. 

“Fuck you,” Wade muttered before coughing; the whiskey went down a little too fast. “What happened?” he said a little louder to Logan. 

He rolled his shoulders. “Pressure, mostly, a bit of late-age teen drama. It happens now and then, but it really gets to Charles every time.” 

“Well, sure,” Matt said, sensing Logan was looking for another drink and reached over to shove the bottle back down the bar to him. “Professor Xavier loves each of those children like a father, I’m willing to bet.” 

“Maybe a little too much, but it’s not my place,” Logan said, filling half of his glass. “Anyway, since you two know the kid and seem to tolerate him the best, I was hoping that maybe you could keep a bit of a closer eye on him? Just in case?” 

“Of course! Tell ol’ Wheels we’ll keep baby boy safe and sound,” Wade said, shooting Logan a grin. 

Logan glared at him. “Charles didn’t send me.” 

_‘Uh oh, you know it’s bad when Logan, **Logan** , is worried,’_ a voice said. 

Wade stared at Logan as he threw back the rest of the whiskey in his glass and slammed it back on the bar with just enough control to not break it. 

“Wilson, Murdock,” Logan grunted, standing up and pulling his leather jacket back on before walking out. 

“This is pretty serious, then,” Matt murmured, finding it necessary to empty his glass as quickly as possible. “He’s not lying, exaggerating, nothing. Logan is legitimately worried.” 

“Baby boy is fine,” Wade said, waving over the bartender. “Leave it to Logan to stick us with the bill.” 

Wade tried to make a motion to indicate that they wanted the check. The bartender didn’t understand until Wade pulled out a wad of rolled up cash and he shook his head at them. Wade opened his mouth to voice his frustration when the bartender walked away and then brought over a small clipboard that had a receipt on it. 

“He pay,” the bartender said, pointing towards the door. 

Wade leaned forward and squinted at the receipt on the clipboard; from what he could understand, Logan had paid for all three of them. 

“What is it?” Matt asked, noting the change in Wade’s energy. 

“This must be serious,” Wade said. “Logan paid the bill.” 

Matt rolled his eyes. 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * 

Wade and Matt talked a while after Logan had left. Neither of them really thought Peter was acting all that differently. The only thing Wade noticed was the he seemed more tired than usual; When they were home, Peter stared at the walls a little more, and when Wade asked him if there was something wrong, a weak smile slid into place and an explanation of a test he was concerned about or a photography job that was on his mind, or just a simple lack of sleep the night before. 

The two parted ways, agreeing that Wade was going to see if he could talk to Peter and then report back to Matt. If Peter resisted, Matt would give it a shot. 

Wade decided to walk home – he knew it was a long walk but he needed it. He really hoped that Logan and Charles were just being paranoid, spooked from their own experiences. Wade had a difficult time imagining Peter being that desperate, so ready and willing to give up. The kid had dealt with a lot in life, as did most of them, but he was strong and brilliant and too stubborn to give up. 

_‘Is he though? Is he really?’_

_**‘You’ve thought about it yourself.’**_

_‘Of course, you never could, you coward.’_

“Fuck right the fuck off,” Wade growled under his breath. 

_‘The truth hurts, doesn’t it?’_

“Shut. Up.” 

_**‘I never understood why you stick around, either, it’s not like you’re really doing anyone any good.’**_

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” 

_'Oh! Maybe you two could do it together! Nothing says bonding like taking a mutual flying leap off someplace high!'_

_**'Of course, we all know only one of you will walk away from that. Guess you'll deliver whatever's left to Aunt May.'**_

Wade broke into a run as the voices laughed, expertly weaving through the crowded New York City sidewalks and trying to concentrate on the surrounding noise to drown the voices out. 

It started to rain as Wade made it to the block Peter’s building was on. The voices had stopped for now, his heart felt like it was ready to explode, and his lungs burned a little. He didn’t much care and he kept going, though he moved at more of a jogging pace than a full-out run. Finally he reached their building, hitting the pass-code buttons hard enough to make his wet and frozen fingertips ache, and trudged up the stairs while trying to put on a happy face. 

“I’m home baby boy!” Wade called out. “Whaydya say we-” 

Wade frowned. Peter would usually be either on the couch or at his desk. Not bothering to shed his hoodie just yet, Wade went into the bedroom and pulled open the dresser drawer where he knew Peter kept his Spider-man costume. It was gone; not surprising so much as concerning. 

He wandered back into the living room and pulled his hoodie off, wondering if he should don his own costume and go out looking for him, just to check in, when something on the coffee table caught his eye. It was a folder, yellow, and a piece of lined paper was folded and taped onto it. He reached down and pulled off the piece of paper, unfolded it, and glanced over the blue scrawl of ink that was Peter’s handwriting. 

“… Oh, fuck,” Wade murmured. 

In less than five minutes, Deadpool leapt out of the living room window, his cell phone in his ear with Daredevil’s number dialed. Peter’s letter wafted to the floor in the cold breeze.


	2. Peter's Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The note that Wade barely read and left on the floor of their apartment.

Wade, 

First of all, thank you for what you’ve done to help me. I know living together hasn’t always been easy, I definitely did my share of whining and complaining, and probably part of your share, too. You won’t have to worry about me anymore, though. There are a lot of things I would have liked to take care of myself, but unfortunately, I won’t be able to, and some of it I can’t be around for. 

In the folder are papers to take care of the rest. The apartment will be put in your name, if you’d rather live somewhere else, the security deposit is all yours. Not sure how much you’ll actually get back, but it’s yours all the same. I labeled out the few things of value I have and what to do with them, everything else can be tossed or given to charity, I don’t care. There’s a letter in there for MJ and for Aunt May, I hate to ask you to deliver them but there’s no one else I can ask and I don’t think I should mail them. I don’t know if this is something Matt can do, but could you ask him to please do what he can to protect Aunt May from any legal ramifications that come from my absence? 

I’m sorry we have to part ways like this, Wade. I hope you respect me enough to honor my request that you don’t come looking for me. Please understand that there’s just no room for me here anymore and that this really is for the best. Thank you for the time that we had together, for making me laugh, and yeah even for making me cry, and for being a good friend. I really wish I knew what else to say. 

-Peter


	3. In the Trenches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deadpool confronts Spider-man; it doesn't go quite as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone wondering what the hell happened to the third chapter I had up before, it wasn't what I originally wanted so I decided screw it, and changed it. I hope everyone likes this version more. Also, P.S, making a lot of assumptions over things like abilities and strengths, just go with it.

Rain fell heavily on the city, driving people inside buildings and cabs, the tops of umbrellas turned the sidewalks into blobs of black with the occasional bright color popping here and there. 

Deadpool stood on the roof of a tall building, eyes scanning for the familiar flash of red and blue, ignoring the wet and the cold, his hands clenching and relaxing as he struggled between rage over why he was out there and fear for his friend. 

The voices had been debating back and forth, sometimes mirroring what Wade thought he was thinking, as well as offering commentary of varying sorts, but he was too focused to pay them much attention until one said something significant. 

_‘Maybe he’ll jump off a bridge, put some irony to that whole Itsy Bitsy Spider thing.’_

_**‘Can he swim?’**_

“He can’t, can he?” Deadpool murmured. He immediately turned in the direction of the Brooklyn Bridge and started moving. “It probably makes the most sense; he wouldn’t jump from a building because he wouldn’t risk traumatizing civilians.” 

_‘Why would he bother wearing his costume if he was going to overdose or something?’_

_**‘Unless he’s going to pick an intentional fight with a villain he knows will kill him, but Petey doesn’t seem to be the type.’**_

“Huh, you guys are actually being helpful,” Deadpool muttered. 

**_‘Don’t hold your breath, Wilson, we’re waiting for you to fuck it up.’_**

“Glad to know some things are consistent.” 

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * 

Spider-man stood on the outside of the Manhattan-side tower of the Manhattan Bridge and stared down into the ocean below. The water was active and choppy. The ocean always made him a little uneasy with how vast and huge it was, however at the moment, he felt absolutely nothing.

Well, maybe a little bit of regret, a little sadness on his own part that he just couldn’t keep up with everything, that he knew he was giving up, that he knew there was no easy answer to give anyone that would inevitably ask him “why.” He leaned forward a little, ignoring that the rain had soaked his costume to the point that his skin was damp and chilled. He closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath. 

“You’ve been a naughty, naughty spider.” 

His blood ran cold as an iron grip took his wrist. “What are you doing here?” 

“I was in the neighborhood.” 

“… That’s the lamest line I’ve ever heard.” 

“Not as lame as whatever line you had prepped for when I finally caught up with you. Seriously, what the fuck are you doing up here?” Deadpool glanced around and something cylindrical caught his eye. He grabbed it and found it was a bottle of sleeping pills. A quick shake told him a few were left inside. “What the fuck did you do?!” 

Spider-man tore his wrist from Deadpool’s grip. “What does it matter? Who actually cares?” 

“When did you go from the smartest person I know to the stupidest asshole I know?” 

“Just leave me alone.” 

“Why? So you can off yourself? You at least have to give me a good reason-” 

Spider-man lifted a hand and Deadpool knew what was going to happen next. As Spider-man went airborne, he grabbed onto his ankle – he was faster than Deadpool, but not fast enough. The extra weight did little to nothing to hinder him but he did seem determined to try to shake him off. 

“You know, you could just, I don’t know, talk to me!” Deadpool shouted. “Instead of doing this whole thing where you attempt to throw me off. Let me tell you right now, Skippy, it ain't gonna be that easy!” 

Spider-man said nothing. 

“Come on, man, swing us somewhere where we can have a beer and have some bro time!” 

Still silence. 

“Really? The silent treatment, man? How immature could you- oh shit!” 

Spider-man landed them on top of a building, intentionally rolling and succeeding in finally getting Deadpool to let go. 

“What do you want me to say, exactly?” Spider-man asked Deadpool while he climbed to his feet with some theatrical wincing. 

“I want the truth,” Deadpool replied. “What was up with the note you left? Why did I find you staring into the water while a nearly empty bottle of sleeping pills was next to you? What is going on in your head? What is so terrible that you feel this is your only option?!?” Deadpool took a deep breath and let it out in a huff. He tilted his head and gave Spider-man a curious once-over. “Are you pregnant?” 

“… Seriously?” 

“Yeah, man, I mean, I dunno, we see some pretty fucked up shit in our line of work. Come on, there’s a bunch of people even now reading this crap, I bet they eat that m-preg stuff up.” 

“What?!” 

“Nevermind. Anyway, seriously, Pete, why are you doing this?” 

“Not in the mood to talk about it, and besides, you just wouldn’t understand.” 

“Try me. I may not understand, but I still want to hear it.” 

He had no idea if Peter could pick up that he was stalling; he figured that the longer he could keep a conversation going, the more time he had to come up with a plan. 

“I just don’t want to do this anymore and I don’t want to be here anymore.” 

“Why?” 

“No one needs me.” 

“Oh, you are so full of shit, Parker!” 

“Am I? Seriously, between The Avengers, and with them comes the full force of S.H.I.E.L.D., the Fantastic Four, you, Daredevil? Not even beginning to mention Xavier has his army of mutants just a few miles upstate, no big deal for them to come running if it’s necessary; Really, I’m not needed.” 

“And if I got every single mother-fucker you mentioned to come down and join us on this rooftop you will find out how fucking _wrong_ you are,” Deadpool seethed. “Fuckin’ A, Matt is out there somewhere looking for you right now! So give me another reason why it’s perfectly logical to go flying off a bridge.” 

“I’m a danger to anyone who knows me, so I’m just taking myself right out of that equation.” 

“Bullshit again, Spidey, do you really think you not being around is suddenly going to make all the bad guys disappear? I keep telling you to kill them but noooooo; you do realize that killing _them_ and not _yourself_ is the solution, right?” 

Spider-man turned away from him slightly. “Those are just the superhero-related things. How about that as a civilian I’m still completely useless? The world has enough geniuses, and honestly even out of them I don’t hold a candle to people like Banner and Reed.” 

“Don’t they have like, a decade’s worth of experience over you?” 

“And degrees, something else I’ve failed in.” 

“So you didn’t have the money for a fancy-schmancy piece of paper!” Deadpool crossed his arms and tapped his foot. “Keep it up, because I can go all night long.” 

Spider-man swayed a little on his feet, reminding Deadpool of the sleeping pills. 

“How many pills did you take?” Deadpool asked. 

“Probably not enough,” Spider-man replied. “You have my third bottle, though I didn’t finish that one. Those things aren’t that strong these days, plus my metabolism… I just wanted enough to make my sleepy so I don’t struggle unconsciously, maybe to make it hurt less, I don’t even know anymore to be honest.” 

Deadpool wanted to reach for the bottle and read it, but he didn’t want to take his eyes off of his friend for even half of a second. 

“And people think I’m crazy,” Deadpool murmured, putting the pieces together. “You wore your costume so no one would question you, also so you could get to the bridge without an issue or probably without being seen. Jumping on the ocean side would make the least likely attempt of recovering your body. Quite the plan you had there.” 

“I still have my plan. You can't stop me," Spider-man said in a disturbingly gentle tone. "You can't stop me from doing this, Wade." 

"I can and I will," Deadpool replied, his voice steeled. 

"You know why you can't stop me? Because you know that after all is said and done, I'm in the right. You would kill yourself too if you could, there was a time that you had told me so yourself." 

"Oh, come on, that is totally unfair!" 

"But it's the truth." 

"No, no it isn't and I can stop you if I want to," Deadpool pulled out one of his guns and aimed it at Spider-man's leg, using both hands to keep it steady. He couldn't let the other know how badly he was shaking at this point. "It will hurt like a son of a bitch, but you'll live." 

Spider-man shook his head slowly and took a few steps towards him. Deadpool couldn't tell for sure, but he had the feeling a slow and sad smile was spreading across his face under the webbed mask. When he was close enough, he reached out and put his hand over the top of the gun. Deadpool expected him to lower it, but instead he lifted it until it was pointed at his head. 

"This seems oddly familiar, a little weird being on the other side of the equation," Deadpool said quietly. 

"You couldn't shoot me," Spider-man said softly. "You worked really long and hard to stop killing, to be better, and I'm sure you're not going to risk me getting hurt, much less killed by your hands." 

Deadpool took his fingers off the trigger, but then a split second later the gun clattered to the ground; Deadpool's wrists were bound with webbing and Spider-man kicked his hip just hard enough to send him flat on his ass on the ground and pushed against a cooling unit. Spider-man then knelt down to look Deadpool in the eyes. 

“This is what’s going to happen,” Spider-man said gently, which was more unsettling than if he sounded angry. “I’m going to leave and go back to the bridge. I’m going to go forward with my plan. If you try to follow me again, I’ll drop you off of the Empire State Building. I know regenerating sucks, but maybe that will make my death a little easier to bear if I make you hate me just a little.” 

Spider-man stared at him for another moment, and then reached to pull his mask up to uncover his mouth. He leaned forward and kissed Deadpool on the cheek. 

“Wade, I have to go, and this time, you can’t follow me.” 

The mask was pulled down again, and Deadpool stared at Spider-man's retreating figure. 

_'What are you doing, you idiot?! Stop him!'_

Deadpool's mind raced, trying to think of a way to stop him as he struggled to free his hands. 

"That won't work," Spider-man tossed the comment over his shoulder. "You'll need something pretty sharp to cut through that." 

Deadpool growled in angry frustration, but then it died back into panic when he noted that Spider-man stood on the edge of the roof. 

Spider-man took one last look at the cityscape around him, took a deep breath and noted everything in the air, and wondered if there was an afterlife, if he would remember any of this, but then he decided that it really didn't matter, and swayed forward. 

Or he would have if Deapool's arms weren't suddenly tight around him and something sharp wasn't pressed against his stomach. 

"If you think this is going to stop me, you have another thing coming," he snapped. "Besides, you can't die, so what's the point?" 

"Oh, but isn't that the thing now, baby boy," Deadpool murmured into his ear with a grin. "The blade currently pressed into your cute belly is made of Carbonadium - that nullifies healing factors. In another lifetime, even Wolverine would die to this thing. After this runs through you, it will run through me." 

"Wade-" 

"So what's it gonna be, baby boy? If you go, I go." 

Spider-man was silent for a moment, then Deadpool felt small tremors running through the smaller frame. Was he actually laughing or...? 

"You really are a fucking idiot," Spider-man muttered. 

Before he could question it, the wind was nearly knocked out of him when he landed hard on the concrete of the rooftop. Somehow, Spider-man wriggled free of his grip and ran to the opposite side of the roof near the vents and air conditioners. 

"I'll say it one more time; you can't stop me," Spider-man declared. 

Deadpool rolled over and looked up. 

"You're right," he acknowledged. "I can't stop you." 

Spider-man hesitated for a second. 

"Forgive me, Peter." 

"Darede-?" 

The side of a club hit his temple and Spider-man dropped like a sack of wet cement. Daredevil tucked the club back into his boot as he dropped to one knee and placed a hand on Spider-man's back, checking for other injuries. 

"What the hell took you so long?" Deadpool demanded, using the edge of the short sword he pulled out to cut the webbing. 

"Be careful, don’t cut yourself," Daredevil warned, hearing the snaps of the webs. 

"Huh? Oh, you heard that?" Deadpool shook the webbing off, then stood and restored his weapons in their proper places. "Come on, man, I was bluffing. Whoever heard of fucking Carbonadium? That's just stupid." 

Daredevil nodded, his senses picking up nothing besides slow breathing and a slowing-to-normal heartbeat. Deadpool came and stood above them, looking down worriedly. 

"What do we do now?" Deadpool asked. 

"We're going back to my place. I have someone we can call," Daredevil said, picking Spider-man up with little effort. 

Deadpool nodded, fingering the pouch where he stashed the bottle of sleeping pills, and followed Daredevil towards Hell's Kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone busts my behind over the Carbonadium bit - I know his katana are coated with the stuff, but since it seems to have only shown up eight times in the comics, I took a bit of liberty for the sake of some 4th wall humor.


	4. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter, Matt, and Wade talk it out.

            The first sensation Peter was aware of was something firmly wrapped around his head. Then a stinging sensation at his temple, followed by a feeling of being weighed down and almost too warm. He slowly opened his eyes to a blurry world that was slow to come into focus. As things started to make sense, he realized that his surroundings were unfamiliar and he began to panic.

            A weight settled by his side.

            "Easy, Pete, you've had a rough night," Matt said.

            Another weight settled not quite as gently on his other side.

            "Not as rough as I would have made it if Matt didn't show," Wade said angrily.

            "Wade," Matt said in a warning tone.

            Wade almost had to literally bite his tongue to keep silent.

            ' _Oh don't be a baby and tell no-eyes over there to fuck off,_ ' a voice said.

            "You fuck off," Wade grumbled as low as he could.

            Matt heard it, and figured it wasn't directed at him. He instead focused back to Peter who was glancing between them like a trapped animal with a heartbeat to match.

            "Peter, you're safe, okay? Please calm down," Matt said.

            "I'm not supposed to be here," Peter murmured, struggling to sit up.

            Wade pushed him back down. "You stay right where you are because this **_is_** where you are supposed to be."

            Peter glared at him, but Wade glared right back. Finally Peter relinquished with a sigh.

            "Okay. What happened? Where am I?" Peter asked calmly.

            "You took three bottles of sleeping pills and had this fucked up idea about jumping off the Manhattan Bridge. Then you had another fucked up idea which included fighting me," Wade said, shifting himself so he lay on his back and used Peter's legs as a pillow.

            "I was going to try to talk to you myself but you seemed too determined to carry on, so I knocked you out," Matt continued.

            "That explains this," Peter said, touching the padded bandage gingerly.

            "What can I say? It takes a lot to take some people down," Matt said with a shrug. "I brought you to my place, called a friend of mine to take care of you, and before you flip, she knows about me, she can be discreet, and she doesn't know your name."

            “You missed out, baby boy, she was really hot,” Wade added.

            Peter looked around. "This is your place?"

            "Yep, oh, and I probably should tell you; you're not leaving until we have a long, long conversation. This is not open for debate."

            It was a tone that left no room for interpretation. Peter nodded slowly.

            "He's nodding," Wade supplied.

            "I'm going to get you some water. Wade, behave yourself."

            Peter grunted as he struggled to sit up, and it wasn't because of Wade on his legs, though that didn't help either.

            "Did you guys try to tie me to the bed via the blankets?" Peter asked, giving up and flopping back on the pillows.

            "You were soaking wet and cold," Wade explained. "Nurse Angel-face said you needed to be kept warm and still. We stripped you down - well mostly I did because you know, Matt's blind - and Matt loaned you a pair of pajamas. You look adorable in slightly over-sized clothes, by the way."

            Peter scowled. "He's not that much bigger than me."

            "And yeah, then we piled three blankets on you and tucked you in good and proper."

            "All right, but let me sit up, will you?"

            Wade raised an eyebrow. "Only if you promise not to hit me over the head and run away."

            Peter sighed, wanting to roll his eyes but his head still felt a little dazed. "I promise."

            Wade nodded and got up, pulling one side of the blankets from between the mattress and box spring so it gave Peter room to wiggle up into a sitting position. Wade was there to help, but he seemed to manage in his own. Matt came back with the water and they watched as Peter drank.

            "Good," Matt said, taking the empty glass. "Now I want to know why you feel suicide is your answer to your problems?"

            Peter sighed. "Look, it's stupid, I know it is."

            "You didn't think that six hours ago," Wade murmured.

            Matt reached over and felt around for Peter's hand, squeezing it when he found it.           

            "I don't care if the reason seems stupid now, I want to know so we can help you fix it. Please, Pete, just talk to us."

            Even behind the dark glasses, Peter could see Matt's concern. Wade nodded at him, watching him carefully as if trying to read him.

            "Okay,” Peter agreed. “I feel useless; I always did. Sure I'm smart, but it's not like it’s done me too much good. My job doesn't utilize what I'm capable of and I don't have a degree to find one that does. I have no money to go into business for myself and I have no mind for such a thing. There are so many others in this city that do what we do, what's one less among them? I figured if I did it in a way where there wouldn't even have to be a proper funeral, then I even absolve Aunt May of spending an insane amount of money on me."

            Matt nodded. "I can understand that. You have yourself in a bind with your job; I can't really tell you how to go about fixing that, but we can figure that out once you are well again. Is that something you can put aside for now?”

            “Well, no, Matt,” Peter said. “I have to pay rent, help Aunt May, pay bills, you know, take care of my responsibilities?”

            “I got you covered for a little while, and you know, Aunt May is a big girl, she can take care of herself,” Wade said. “And she has told you that plenty of times.”

            “I can’t ask you to-”

            “I’m offering, end of story, moving on.”

            Peter glared at him, but then took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he nodded.

            “All right. Thank you.”

            “Good,” Matt said with a nod and a small smile. “Now as far as there being so many superheroes around, what’s one less among them? Peter, Spider-man is such an important hero, you are so incredibly important.”

            Peter rolled his eyes.

            “Pete’s rolling his eyes,” Wade sighed. “Baby boy, do you realize what would happen if I called up Tony or Captain Boy Scout and told them that you felt this way? Better yet, if I tell Barton? They’d have every Avenger in here telling you that you’re out of your mind.”

            “Not to mention if either of the X-men got wind of this?” Matt added.

          “What about your other Spidey-buddies? Miles would be absolutely devastated if anything happened to you,” Wade said.

            “All right, enough!” Peter suddenly yelled. “Look, I appreciate the thoughts and I know you guys are trying to help, but being told how great and important I am actually makes this whole thing worse.”

            They all took a moment for silence, letting Peter gather his thoughts.

            “Look, I’m miserable here and I just don’t want to be here. Hearing others tell me how great I am makes me feel guilty. It’s like being coerced to stay at a party that you’re not having any fun at,” he looked between his two friends with a sigh and lay back on the pillows. “I would just rather end it already; maybe there’s something for me in the next life.”

            The room fell silent again; Peter didn’t really have anything else to say, Matt didn’t know what to say, and for once, Wade was also quiet. Wade was quiet and he hated it.

            “All right, I think I have an idea,” Wade said. “It sounds to me like you’re burnt out. I’m taking you to Tijuana for a week.”

            Peter raised an eyebrow, opening his eyes halfway. He opened his mouth to protest but Wade reached over and slapped his hand over the opened maw.

            “Nope, nope, not taking any form of protest, it’s happening. I’ll go pack your things.”

            Wade leaned over and kissed Peter on the cheek before bounding out of the room. They could hear the door slam shut a few moments later.

            “He’s not serious, is he?” Peter murmured.

            “He seemed to be. I think it’s as good an idea as any,” Matt said with an air of amusement. “I do think maybe getting out of town for a while may help, be it to Tijuana or Montauk, I don’t care. Leave for a little while, try to relax, maybe get some new perspectives, but there will be a price to pay.”

            “Always is.”

            “I’m being serious, Pete. When you come back, I want you to find a doctor. I’ll help you find one, but you must promise me that you’ll see someone about all of this,” he squeezed his hand.

            “All right,” Peter said with a sigh.

            Matt squeezed his hand harder. “Really, now, promise me.”

            “Okay, okay, I promise, sheesh.”

            Matt gave him a small, sad smile and leaned in to rest his forehead against Peter’s.

            “I like you a lot, Peter, I really don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

            Peter put a hand on the back of Matt’s neck gently. “Bad things already have happened to me, Matt.”

            “I know, me too, just please get some help before you make any big decisions.”

            Peter sighed. “All right, I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I hope that this was a good wrap-up. I got to this point and didn’t know where to go because, well… I’ve never known what happens after standing on that bridge, and in a way, I’m still standing there.  
> So, thanks for bearing with me, thank you all so, so much for your patience and support, I can’t begin to tell you how important it is to me. <3 Stay safe, everyone ^_^
> 
> I also have a [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/soloshikigami). Come chat!


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